Yvain looked at her Seigneur’s eyes, since he seemed anything but forbidding at that moment. Then she looked at his cock, which had recently been in her mouth. Till he’d found fault with her and ordered her to visit the Beldam to ask to be punished.
The Beldam stood behind her, cane in her hand. She said to the Seigneur, “Twelve strokes delivered, well laid on, as you ordered, my Seigneur.”
“Did she take them in silence, as I ordered?”
“On the tenth stroke she snuffled and squealed like a little piglet.” Yvain felt indignant for a second. She had gasped, which was wrong, but the Beldam was exaggerating her fault. “I gave her that stroke again, but I understand you said that if she made a sound, she get the complete set of twelve again. I am happy to deliver them, Sire, but I thought you might want to teach that lesson for yourself.”
The Seigneur smiled briefly. “Bad girl, Yvain. I’m sorry to hear that you disobeyed me. Beldam, I will not trouble you to carry out that particular task. You may leave the cane behind when you leave.”
“Thank you, my Seigneur.” Yvain heard the crumple of material that told her that, behind her, the Beldam had curtsied and was about to leave.
The Seigneur held up his hand. “I have not dismissed you, Beldam. You’re to take your stand a little beside and behind our squealing little piglet, and apply the cane when I direct.”
“Yes, my Seigneur.”
“Yvain, I want you to stand in front of me, and spread your legs. Good girl. See, you can obey orders! I hope you’ll un-learn how to disobey them, girl. You know your hide suffers when you don’t learn fast.”
“Yes, my Seigneur.” Yvain knew she was blushing, standing naked before her Seigneur, fascinated by the movements of his cock as he spoke: certain words seemed to excite him. She wondered why she was not on her knees, showing him how much she wanted to please him, no matter what the cost.
A moment later she knew. “Now bend at the waist, Yvain. I want your mouth on my cock. You may hold on to my thighs to help you balance.”
Yvain bent as instructed, and opened her mouth. The Seigneur held her hair then, stopping her from taking his cock into her. She was disappointed, then alarmed: she realised she hadn’t acknowledged his order! She said, “Yes, my Seigneur. I’m so sorry, my Seigneur!”
He must have nodded at the Beldam, because the cane bit hard and loud, across the fullest, softest part of her bottom. The Seigneur said, “Again.” Yvain fought her need to cry out. The Seigneur pressed more gently on the back of her head, lowering her into place. Yvain felt his cock, the skin soft and warm, the shaft it covered immensely, impossibly hard, press forward into her mouth, and on into her throat.
The practice she’d already had in breathing around a mouthful of lordly penis stood her in good stead: she remembered to relax and not choke.
Instead she closed her eyes, so she could focus on the feel and smell and taste of his beautiful cock – she found it beautiful, though she’d heard village girls laughing about cocks – and she licked under his shaft, knowing that would feel good to him. She began to suck him, greedily.
The grip in her hair tightened again, and she found herself forced to take him deeper. The cock withdrew a little, and them rammed forward, Then he withdrew and rammed forward again, while she forced herself to stay with him, sucking him hard. He said, “If you let my cock slip out, Yvain, do you want to know what will happen to you?”
He rammed her again, then stayed fully inside her. Yvain said, “‘o, I don wan’ ‘o fi’ ou’, my ‘eigneur.”
He sounded amused, gentle again, though his words were terrible. “Then you know roughly what will happen. The detail is that you would be publicly whipped, with the village required to attend. But that, like all punishments, is avoidable if you take care, Yvain.”
The cock began to press forward in her again, hard, forceful movements. He was fucking her mouth and throat, where before he had let her take the lead in pleasuring him. As that mouthfuck continued he seemed, impossibly, to have grown slightly bigger, or at least the head of his cock had. He continued, his movements hard and implacable. Helplessly held and fucked, Yvain gurgled when she snatched in breaths, and she drooled constantly. She’d made a wet patch on the floor between them. Somehow she knew that he not only didn’t mind that, he liked those signs of her acceptance.
At least he grunted, and said, “Swallow every drop, girl,” and his movements were faster, almost frenzied, and it was all she could do to keep her mouth on him. Then he thrust deep and made a sound that sounded like distress, though she knew it was not. Her mouth was filled with a thick liquid, tasting of salt, maleness, and, oddly, cinnamon. There were three strong spurts, and she caught and swallowed the liquid as fast as she could. She knew without being told that to spill his come would not please him, and she would pay dearly.
While she was still sucking and cleaning him, and he said, “Oh, sweet girl, beautiful girl, good girl. My lovely little piglet. Yvain.” His had let go of her hair and caressed the back of her head. Yvain was confused. Those were loving words. Did he mean them? A little later, still hard in her mouth, but perhaps not as hard or as urgent, he said, “That was satisfactory, girl.”
He lifted her by the hair, so they could look at each other, eye to eye. Still looking at Yvain, he said, “Beldam, place the cane on my bed. And when you leave, send for food and drink to be brought here.”
“Yes, my Seigneur.” Yvain heard the Beldam curtsey again, and then the door closed behind her.
The Seigneur smiled at Yvain, and her heart lifted. He said, “Wipe your mouth, grubby little piglet. That seems to be the name you’ve earned yourself.” She complied, smiling at the name ‘piglet’. She thought it sounded sweet when it wasn’t an insult. She’d be his piglet. The Seigneur kissed her. Greatly daring, she put her arms round his, and pressed against his chest.